Subject: Santa Cruz Bonfire Social
From: "Drew Gillmore"
Date: 1998/07/19
It was all my fault.
The burning sun that flayed the skin from our bones.
The thirty-three dollar parking tickets.
The fifty-five degree ocean temperature.
The sand that everyone is going to be removing from all their personal
possessions and intimate crevices for the next few weeks.
But none of that is the beginning.
In the beginning, there was nothing. Then there was a voice. "Would Drew
Gillmore and associated Dark Friends please meet at baggage carousel three."
My entourage (Noell and Tashenna) and I arrived at San Jose airport to find
one Darkfriend from the Land of Madmen (Paul Khangure) inconspicuously
announcing his presence by waving around the dust jacket to _The Great
Hunt_. He had already turned away two people claiming to be Mr. Hunt, who
asked whether or not the limo was stocked with MGD lite.
Trumping _The Great Hunt_ with a paperback copy of _Lord of Chaos_, we
showed him who would be Nae'blis, and who the Great Lord favored. Having
made contact, we departed as quickly as possible from the Par'kin La'at by
bribing the sentries. One jo-car was detained, and we witnessed the wrath
of the Great Lord upon the unfaithful Volvo driver. We did not know
shocklances were so ... versatile.
After introductions, a drive back to Santa Cruz, and a semi-fulfilling
dinner of Mexican-American cuisine, we partook of the nearest book store in
an effort to find an appropriate sacrifice for the next day's festivities.
Since none of the clerks were willing, we looked at paperbacks. We decided
that it had been done before, and the Great Lord favored creativity. So we
looked at audio books and then decided that our pocketbooks did not favor
the Great Lord _that_ much. We did buy some books for personal pleasure
(batteries not included), and left.
After dropping off Tashenna, I took the Chosen two to Shayol Ghul, where the
path down into the Pit of Doom could be seen. The trail down Thakan'dar
winnowed out those that were unworthy of the Great Lord, as many have
learned, and many more would learn the next day. The rivulet of water had
somewhat grown into a crashing expanse of gray and green, sufficient for the
quenching of the hundreds of swords that would be needed, or even for the
occasional boogie-boarder.
With the light fading fast, we retreated back up the slope of Thakan'dar,
and headed towards the market, to purchase supplies. That done, we returned
to my palace, and made preparations for the next day. Paul occupied himself
by torturing my kitten.
---
Waking up early, we loaded the jo'cars, and dispatched Tashenna and Paul to
offer obeisance to the Great Lord, and stake out our patch of Thakan'dar.
Noell headed back to the San Jose airport, to collect and prepare her
innocent husband for the rituals to come. With Dragon Fangs prominently
displayed on my jo'car windows, I
waited at the arranged meeting place - Dennys - for those who had been
Chosen to bask in the presence of the Great Lord.
Simple directions were given, yet many of the Chosen seemed unable to feel
the presence of the Bore, and drove right past it. Eventually, when all were
gathered at the top of Thakan'dar, we began shuttling the supplies down the
slope.
When all the regulars were accounted for - Aaron, Nathan, Bill, Hawk, Noell,
Paul, Julie, Chris and myself - we found several lurkers - Batya, Tom, Sean
and Mike - and even a couple of non-believers - Eric and Tashenna - in our
midst. It seemed somehow appropriate that regulars and lurkers numbered 13.
Linked in our cause, we
converted the non-believers... However there was one participant we hadn't
allowed
for - the Love Ewe. She would be punished later.
The Great Lord had indicated his wish for entertainment, so we erected the
volleyball net. The minor difficulties associated with tent pegs and sand
were overcome by rock technology. After a pitiful attempt at badminton, the
group
slowly gravitated towards the need to fuel the bonfire. A delegation was
chosen, and we braved the crashing waves and treacherous rocks, in search of
driftwood.
After being distracted by the three story monolith (which I alone
conquered), suitable fuel was found and transported back through the rising
tide. The journey was not without mishaps. Noell cut her foot on a piece of
fragmented fade blade, and my boots were sacrificed to the creatures lurking
below the water's surface.
With Noell's wound refusing the simple treatments we had on hand - it
was infected with water from Thakan'dar - Tashenna assisted her back
to my house for treatment. While they were gone, our attention turned
towards one simple goal ... sustenance.
We dug an appropriate pit for barbecuing, and charred the flesh we acquired
on the previous evening's expedition. The Great Lord guided Bill's shovel,
and two pieces of flesh were sacrificed in the coals. There were other forms
of food available, of which, The Hawk Guac was the first to be devoured.
Noell and Tashenna rejoined us
in time to partake of the banquet.
Having sated our appetites, we rose to the challenge of trying to get a
small white ball back and forth over a net. This is not as easy as it
sounds. The winning team was usually decided when one side rotated in a
server who could get the ball over the net with consistency. Unfortunately,
these were few and far between, and we spent much of the time off balance,
or lying in the sand. I myself spent a few moments regaining my composure
after a well placed sand hill wounded me in the nether regions. But it was a
beautiful dive.
Unfortunately the Great Lord was displeased with the entertainment thus far,
so the Love Ewe was brought out as appeasement. We found this form of
activity one that many could relate to, and the pictures will tell no lies.
The Love Ewe stayed true to form, keeping her garter belts on and lipstick
in place, even though people on both sides of the gender line had long since
decided clothing was optional.
The Great Lord was satisfied with the twisted nature of the Chosen.
We settled in a circle near the net and passed around a cover from _The Eye
of the World_ for each of the attendees to sign for posterity. I can see a
tradition forming, as it has been deemed that this is the only worthwhile
use for the dust jackets.
During this time, the evil Seagulls discovered that our cheese was worth the
risk of Paul's deadly accuracy with a boomerang. At least, until Paul hit a
plant halfway up a hill with deadly accuracy, at which time we decided it
would probably be easier to put away the cheese. Meanwhile, Paul went in
search of the boomerang. Although the boomerang was not recovered, the
search was not in vain, as Paul was introduced to the pleasures of Poison
Oak. Paul responded with a vehement "I hate this country!"
As darkness encroached, or rather, threatened to encroach, we prepared a
spot for the Bonfire. By this time, the lurkers formerly known as Sean and
Mike had disappeared ... it has been speculated that they made the long walk
down into the Pit of Doom, which they had mistaken for a latrine. Needless
to say, the Great Lord would not be pleased with this type of activity on
his doorstep.
Finally, it was late enough to begin the burning. Bill, Nathan and I -
being the intelligent and resourceful guys that we are - argued on the best
way to get the fire started. Although drunk, Eric could not be persuaded to
lie on the ground while we piled wood around him, so we resorted to lighter
fluid instead.
The remaining Friends of the Dark crouched around the flames for warmth, and
talked of Astrophysics, video games, CD quality versus Eight Tracks, and
sound encoding formats while corn on the cob barbecued peacefully in the
flames. Paul spent over five minutes trying to spot the Southern Cross
before remembering it was called the _Southern_ Cross for a reason. We gave
him a new perspective and pointed him towards Polaris, the North Star.
Nathan busied himself by exercising his pyromaniacal tendencies by trying to
get the fire beyond three levels without using the Power, and clicked his
teeth when the logs collapsed.
As the evening wound to a close, we began the task of ferrying all the
gear back up to the jo'cars - not an easy task in the day, all but
impossible in the night. Our portable glow bulbs were invaluable, and
we owe our survival to them. Much to our dismay however, they
revealed the parking tickets on our jo'car windshields, placed there
by an over zealous Ogier patrol.
We made our good-byes, and the job of scribe was pawned off to myself and
Paul, mostly because I promised we would not start the summary with "The
Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become
legend, yadda yadda yadda".
The various states of inebriation, the bright red color of everybody's skin,
the woefully drained look in the eyes, and the much lightened ice coolers
proclaimed the day a rousing success.
Various Quotes for the day:
"I'm a fish trapped inside a woman's body."
"That's tight." "Yeah - it's white virgin PVC".
"Poison Oak? What's that? Is it bad?"
"What does it look like?" "That stuff you're standing in."
"You're fisting the Love Ewe?"
"It's a sheep - it doesn't matter if it's male or female."
"She identifies with a 6'4" black man who carries an 8" steel pistol." "And
how does this make you feel?"
"We're at a disadvantage, we have to watch the dogs fucking."
"Did you see the size of that seagull?" "Did you see the size of its shit?"
"There were four naked guys down that end of the beach." "Well why didn't
you tell me?" "They weren't exactly the pillar of manliness..."
"It's all Drew's fault."
--
Kid Probability drew@cats.ucsc.edu
Paul Raj Khangure prk@iinet.net.au